Posts Tagged ‘issues’

On Monday night I spent the evening with Mike and Caroline and their adorable 3 year old son Billy, and we had Dominos pizzas, played with Claire’s cat (they were house-sitting for her while she was on holiday for her boyfriend’s birthday) and watched TV. Between the friendly insults between Mike and myself, the yummy food and the cute trots around the garden with Billy, we ended up having an interesting conversation / I watched an incipient argument between Mike and Caroline about whether it is right to teach your child to hit back when they are hit.

A bit more background to the story: Billy goes to nursery on afternoons during the week, and is in a class with various other kids who are the same age. His initial reluctance to go to nursery has more or less faded now, and he seems to enjoy himself there and plays well with most of the other kids (as well as trying to sneak home toys in his socks!). However, there are two little girls called Paris and Jayla who have behavioural issues in the group, and because of these girls’ issues with the rest of the group, they are currently under watch from the head of the nursery. Now, I don’t really know too much of the details beyond the fact that these girls act mean towards the rest of the children, and Caroline said that she has observed Jayla (the girl in question) acting menacingly towards all of the children and trying to bully them into giving her their toys, or pushing them around.

On Monday, Caroline mentioned that she had asked Billy how he had got on with Jayla that day, and he said that she tried to take a toy away from him and snatch it out of his hands, but he held on to it; in addition, when they were lining up after playtime, she tried to push him out of the line several times but he just stood back in it. Caroline was proud of this, as it meant that Billy had stood his ground without making a scene or responding directly to Jayla’s behaviour; at no point did Caroline suggest that the girl was personally targeting Billy; rather, it’s a case of her trying to dominate whoever is around in a childish display of power. Nevertheless Billy has been one of the victims of her behaviour, and although he’s handled it well, who knows if it will escalate or how much it affects or upsets him below his happy-go-lucky demeanour?

Caroline and Mike were discussing this during the evening and it became clear that they had different viewpoints on how to handle this problem. On the one hand, Caroline was pleased with Billy for turning the other cheek, but she was worried that Jayla might not stop harassing her son and that it might end up really upsetting Billy and ruining his time at nursery. Mike was worried about the same, but his solution for dealing with Jayla once and for all was for Billy to push her back when she pushed him or tried to take his stuff. Caroline didn’t like this (for what precise reason I don’t know, though I think it has less to do with ramifications from teachers or Jayla’s mother – Caroline can stand her ground and apparently Jayla’s mother is your average young chav woman – and more to do with the ethics of teaching a child to counter violence with violence) and refused to tell Billy this course of action; Mike said that that was fine and that he would tell Billy himself, but it became clear that Caroline didn’t want him to do this either.

Mike could tell that Caroline was getting agitated, and said that responding in a more direct manner might nip the problem in the bud; he was adamant that Billy should not and would not remain unhappy at nursery, and pushing this girl back in retaliation was the best way to get her to leave him alone once and for all. He supported this with a story from his own childhood which resulted in him triumphing over bullies who had made his school life miserable in a similar way; however, in Mike’s anecdote he was 11; Billy is 3. How young is too young to advocate violence? Is one child pushing another in retaliation considered “violence”? Does it mean that Billy is lowering himself to Jayla’s level by responding to her intimidation in kind? What might happen if Jayla decides to step her threatening behaviour up a notch?

From the above questions, it might sound like I fall on Caroline’s side of the fence, but actually I don’t. I am not a parent, and I have not met Jayla; nor is it my place to offer advice to Mike and Caroline. However, the way that I see it is that Billy, to his credit, has already tried turning the other cheek (as do, from the sound of it, the other kids) and Jayla isn’t giving up. She is a nasty piece of work, and although I don’t think that Billy is a weak child, he is a nice boy and perhaps pushing Jayla back is a primal way of demonstrating that he has some grit to his character. Moreover, in life you have to protect yourself by any means necessary; at this point Billy has already tried a non-violent approach which has been mature and classy, but it’s not working… now is the time, in my opinion, to send a short, sharp message loud and clear. Like Caroline, I don’t believe in using violence to get your point across, but at the same time if someone hits me then I will hit them back and I believe that their attack gives me licence to do so. In the context of retaliation, I don’t think there is anything wrong with Billy pushing Jayla – to sound schoolyard, she pushed him first. He’s tried the passive approach, now it’s time to send a clearer message using a different approach. Although I think that Mike is projecting somewhat when he talks about his own childhood and says that he doesn’t want Billy to be seen as weak (which I think is a little bit of over-psycho-analysis), the result is the same: the goal is to get this girl to piss off, and turnabout is fair play. Like Mike, I have a feeling that from the sound of her, Jayla can dish it out but she won’t be able to take it, and I’m in favour of Billy giving her a taste of her own medicine.

In my childhood, there was one instance in particular when I lifted a boy up by his shirt and ended up ripping all the buttons off it in the process; I was 6 years old. However, although my mother and his mother (who, thankfully, were friends) did have to come and resolve the situation after class (and we had to sew the buttons back on his shirt!), I didn’t get in trouble because my teacher had seen that my action was a retaliation; the child who got his shirt ripped had yelled in my ear. The moral of this story is that teachers, good teachers know dynamics between their children, and I didn’t get in trouble for a simple act of retaliation. I think therefore that the teachers at the nursery know the score and they wouldn’t hold any retaliatory action from Billy against him; so although I would always go with Caroline’s non-violent, rise above it attitude first, if that fails then I agree with Mike and it is time to hit back.

I just wanted to write a quick blog, inspired largely by the lovely day I’ve had today. Mike & I (along with his son Billy) spent the day going around Broadmead & Cabot Circus shopping, looking for presents for his wife (whose birthday it is tomorrow) and basically just spending time together. I got to push Billy in his pushchair, help Mike pick out jewellery, and I didn’t even spend money on myself! Mike very kindly bought me a bottle of Touch by Grigio Perla, which he really didn’t need to do – but then I bought him True Blood season 1 on DVD a few weeks ago for the same reason, to thank him for being such a good friend to me. I appreciate his friendship, and apart from the course making such a difference in my job prospects and optimism, his friendship has been an amazing thing that has transformed my life and changed who I am. Just as if I hadn’t done the course, I wouldn’t have met Toby (nor some new friends that I’ve made, both on my course and through twitter 🙂 ), I possibly wouldn’t have had the impetus to start learning to drive again, I wouldn’t have gotten the tattoos that I now have… taking the Careers Guidance course has transformed my life in ways I couldn’t have foreseen, and in ways I truly deserve. I don’t believe in god, but it does seem like fate, like things have finally slotted into place. I’m so happy.

For the first time in 10 months, probably, I went into the Perfume Shop. Walking past with Mike & Billy, I gauged who was in there, and seeing Henna, Ebony and Liz (i.e. none of the people whom I really don’t want to see again), I thought I’d pop in and see how everyone was. It was interesting to see how their lives have changed, but they have effectively stayed in the same place (though the shop does look more vibrant and full of stock compared to how it was a year ago when I was working there) whereas my life has changed so much and I’ve moved on. Ebony was telling me her experiences as deputy manager (my old role), and it rang so true for me (a lot of similar issues with the manager to what I had, interestingly!) . I hope she can escape soon, because she’s an intelligent young woman who can do so much better for herself rather than working herself to the bone in retail for not enough reward. Even down to the fact that I had to explain that Billy was not my child (I haven’t given birth to a 3 year old in the last 11 months), Mike was not my boyfriend (everyone whom I came into that shop with during my time there, regardless of gender, age or anything else, was my potential sleeping partner according to them – that’s an accurate indication of how much the shop consumes your life to push out almost anything else), and that I was happy working at the hospital and studying on my course. Ebony and Liz were chatting a lot, and we really need to catch up with a coffee to exchange full stories. But it was nice to se that after everything that had happened since I left, and despite the fact that I will very rarely go into that shop again because I have no desire to ever see certain people who work there again, I still have some friends there. It won’t be the same, but it was a surprisingly pleasant experience to reconnect with those people, and I feel now that those friendships I cultivated during the time I worked there may not go to waste after all. Time will tell.

In life, I’ve made some really good friends. Sometimes we drift apart for a season, other times we remain close no matter what happens, but friendships are things that I truly cherish. In the past, I’ve been really let down and disappointed by people, but as I’ve grown older I’ve learned lessons and that disappointment occurs a lot less nowadays. Perhaps I’m just a better judge of character, but life isn’t a popularity contest – I feel lucky and happy to have the friends around me whom I have, and I pray that they never go away because they make me a better person, they teach me things about myself, about themselves and about the world which make me a more valuable, wiser person or it. Thankyou all 🙂

I am a fan of Nivea’s music, because she seems to have some artistic control, she has a strong pen game, a lovely voice and most importantly (for this blog entry at least), she wears her heart on her sleeve. She has her fun club songs, swagger and confidence songs, but she also has love songs that seem to express from the heart her emotions (check “Complicated” and “ILY”). This new track is no different. What strikes me about the song and particularly about the video is how fearless she is in confronting her imperfections, her indiscretions and her pain. By getting Lil’ Wayne (her ex and babyfather) to star in the video as her love interest, she’s vividly bringing to life her regret. There’s no subtext – only text. Personally I don’t know how wise it is to be so utterly open with your conflicted emotions and reliving your love found and lost for all to see, but it’s undeniably brave and makes for compelling reading and listening.

I remember when I started my course at uni and I told a couple of people that I had some of my music on myspace. One of them who went and listened to it said that he was really surprised how deep the lyrics were for someone of my age. I think part of it is to do with my upbringing, seeing my parents constantly battling, going back and forth between love and hate, raging arguments that occasionally got quite violent. As a child, it was a lot to handle and I don’t think that it’s something that ever leaves you, although I also readily acknowledge that many people go through a lot worse. But that was more than enough for me to handle. I think that being taught from an early age that “love is pain” is a realistic but not particularly healthy lesson to learn, and I often wonder how I ended up as seemingly well-adjusted as I have! *insert laughter here* I think that’s why I’ve often had tortured feelings for people I can’t have, why I blatantly have control issues (being conscious of power games), daddy issues and have emotionally attached myself to older, bad-boy style men, and why I was so nervous in starting my current relationship. It took me about a month and a half to really see and appreciate how lucky I am, how wonderful my boyfriend is and to learn just to breathe, take it easy and start to be open to him about my vulnerabilities, my flaws and all.

Who knows what will happen in the future? But right now, I am learning that although sometimes love does hurt and has hurt me in the past, it doesn’t always have to be that way. Love can lift you up, and should lift you up more than it tears you down. If I were either of my parents, I would have gotten divorced. But although as a child I prayed for that nightly at times, I am glad that they didn’t and I admire their strength of commitment even though I still wholeheartedly believe that if it were me, I wouldn’t have deemed it worth it to go through what they went through. But my parents’ relationship is not really any of my business – it’s between them and I can only complain when their shit affects me (which I do, when appropriate). When does the point come when you put yourself first, your sanity and your heart? Watching the above video, I wonder if Nivea has really started putting herself first or if she’s still in the midst of an emotional battle and a broken heart? It is compelling viewing and listening, but it also really makes me think and I wonder if heartbreak and anguish is something a singer has to go through in order to really be able to write heartfelt lyrics and lend vocal credence and soul to singing those lyrics. I guess that that’s why I had that feedback (and received comments on my lyrics and vocals throughout my singing ‘career’ to date) from my songs on myspace. To me, my lyrics can and will get deeper as I continue to write and record, and my voice is edgier and more soulful live than it is on record. (Those are my shortcomings with the technology, which is a constant work in progress!)

In short, I (like Nivea, I suppose) wear my heart on my sleeve, feel pain and am glad to be finally learning to appreciate love without the hurt that has come with it in the past, both in what I’ve experienced and also what I’ve learned from those surrounding me. I wonder if however, Nivea is torturing herself further by putting herself back in the situation with having Weezy in the video. For me, that reenactment would rip me apart inside. However she manages to keep it together, she’s a braver person than me and I salute that commitment to artistry and to baring one’s soul.

I was sitting in the back of the car on the way back from Tetbury today, where my parents and I went for lunch. I was in a pretty foul mood, for several reasons: since upgrading my Macbook to Snow Leopard yesterday, I’d had numerous application faults, and the latest was that I was unable to use my printer, which meant that I was unable to make a start on the preparatory task I’d been given for uni. (I’ve since fixed the printer, and after numerous re-installs and restarts, Snow Leopard seems to be working fine now, and has also made my iPod go back to working at normal speed! 🙂 ) I was then feeling apprehensive at the prospect of having lunch with my parents, because it’s always the same: we go to a pub out in the country, have some standard food and drink, either make stiff conversation or blend into the background while my parents talk to each other, and then turn around and come home again. I just can’t be bothered to make the effort for something so boring, and playing ‘happy families’ feels so fake. I then had to get changed to go on this lunch, and I realised that half of my wardrobe is effectively shit, which meant that I ended up throwing a pile of clothes across the room in search of something to wear. When I found a garment that was suitable, I had to pick these clothes up and put them back on my chair. I dumped too much hair gel on my head in the midst of this rage, and then had to make it work. (I did.) Then I got downstairs after my mother kept hollering at me to “hurry up”, and proceeded to wait for my parents!!! If they were telling me to hurry up, why did I end up waiting for them?

So I was in a mega-sulk. I was listening to Courtney Love / Hole on my iPod and saying nothing, reading American Psycho. After walking around Tetbury (since it is so tiny, it did not take long), we ended up going for lunch in a place called The Crown. For the first half an hour, I was quite unimpressed by The Crown. The decor was a bit run down, but that wasn’t really an issue. However, my mother ordered a tonic water, and received half a glass, which I brought to her and then brought back to the bar to check that it was meant to be that small an amount of water. (It was.) Then two dogs (why were dogs in the pub?!?! They weren’t guide dogs) proceeded to have a loud fight in the corner, and my father brought over the food menu, which consisted of 6 items, including “lazange” and “cod & chips in sause”. After clearing up the residue from the bottoms of our glasses, because we were not provided coasters (nor did they seem to exist anywhere in this establishment), I settled on the “lazange” because my parents were getting irritated at my mood and the fact that I could not decide what to eat (they said that we might have to go elsewhere, and I did not want to deal with the combination of their annoyance at my indecisiveness, and prolonging our stay in Tetbury any more than was necessary). It turned out that the lasagne was lovely, and so was the garlic bread that came with it. The food was that place’s saving grace; still, I don’t think I will be going back there again.

Eventually, my parents engaged me in conversation and things started to improve as my mood slowly lifted. We talked about my mother’s friend who looks like she is going to die of cancer quite soon, then about certain friends and relatives of mine who have pissed me off either by criticising my every decision (I am not a moron: I know the risks and possible consequences of smoking / using a sunbed / drinking a coffee at Starbucks / spending a lot of money / not getting as much sleep as would be ideal. I’m an adult and I can make decisions for myself and weigh up the pros and cons. If I decide to do something, I don’t need you on my back asking me if I’m sure I want to be doing that, because this is my life and I don’t tell you how to live yours. Yes, you are criticising me and my ability to choose what I want to do, and I have had enough of it thanks, so please don’t ‘impart your wisdom’ in the future, because I don’t want it and I don’t need it.) or by suddenly getting indignant that I don’t want to see whatever crappy film they choose, because I am tired of wasting my money on films I have no interest in, and going to the cinema is not a particularly sociable activity anyway, so why is it suddenly such a problem if I don’t want to see your film and am happy just to go to a café and converse? And when somebody else is busy, I politely accept it, but now that I have other commitments, it inconveniences them and I’m supposed to feel guilty? No way.

So I let off a bit of steam, my parents assured me that I was utterly in the right and had nothing to feel guilty about, and that to just let the people who were on my back have some space and it would all be fine. A sensible plan I shall try to adhere to! We left Tetbury, and I started thinking about other people who have gotten on my nerves. My thoughts turned to my ex, and my mind went over how I had sent a text message revealing my intent to break up with him to him instead of to my friend Hannah. He chose to believe I had done it on purpose, that I had orchestrated the whole thing on purpose for an easy escape and to humiliate him in the process. That was totally not the case, and I tried to explain it and was sorry to have sent him that message; it was an honest accident, and Hannah was meant to receive the message (it even said her name at the beginning!). But his friends, who had never met me, told him I must have done it on purpose, so he chose to believe them rather than me. That’s fine, that’s his loss. I don’t apologise twice, I didn’t want to be with him anyway, so I let him believe what he wanted – I was emancipated at the end of the day. I regret causing somebody hurt like that, but I don’t feel guilty because it was an honest mistake that I had apologised for; to have that apology thrown back in my face by not only him, but other people who don’t know me at all made the whole thing easier for me to just move on.

But thinking about it, I thought that I couldn’t believe that I let him touch me, put his hands on me, kiss me. It makes my skin crawl, not only because he was so clingy, but sometimes the thought of physical contact makes me shudder. I’m generally quite at ease with physical contact – I’m quite close to my parents and my friends, hugging them and such. Obviously, I’m not a virgin so when I’m in the mood to be intimate with someone, it feels right and I’m not forced into it. But when I put my mind to it, I don’t like people seeing my naked body (and never have); returning to the idea of façades, I try to give off the idea that I am confident in the way I look and at ease with my body, because it makes me appear more confident and flawless. But in reality, I don’t like feeling exposed and I don’t like being touched or kissed or anything like that. I have major trust issues, I know that. Every single person I have dated has let me down in one way or another, and quite a few of them have just wanted sex from me and then got bored, either because they weren’t going to get it, or because they got it and then they didn’t have to pretend to be interested in me as a person anymore. At times, it makes me sick that I’ve let these people touch me, put their hands on me and use me to further their own pleasure. Sometimes I wish that I were untouchable; sometimes I wish that I could just disconnect my heart and mind from my body and float off somewhere while people are doing what they want to do with me, to me, for me. Sometimes I wish that I could be with somebody who really liked me for who I am. Because I am tired of protecting my heart, only to let somebody in and then it all goes wrong and I am hurt and used anyway. I guess that whether it’s physical or emotional, it’s the thought that I have been used that makes me really sick, hurt and regretful.